by Lori L. Otto
“Got any more of that Vicodin?” Finn whispers. I roll my eyes at him. “What? We can zone out together. I’ll keep you company.”
“I do fine on my own, thank you. I’m about to fall asleep as it is.”
“Olivia,” my grandmother calls out across the room. I didn’t realize she’d joined us. “Why don’t you come lie down in our room? It’s quiet.” I honestly wish my parents would have offered to drive me to our own cabin, but they’re too busy catching up with Dad’s siblings.
“Okay.” I smile at her and try to get up off the couch. Finn stands quickly, steadying me.
“What a gentleman,” Grandma says. I bust out laughing, and Finn lets go just long enough for me to lose my balance before he catches me.
“Don’t believe it, Grandma,” I whisper as we walk by her.
“It’s the Vicodin talking,” Finn says to her as an aside. I elbow him in the ribs once we get out of her eyeshot. “You should be nicer to me, Little Liv,” he says, his voice obviously mocking my uncle, the way he says my name.
I reach for the bed and climb on it as best as I can with one good hand, all of my limbs feeling as if they’ve doubled in weight. I collapse on my left side, pulling a pillow under my head. “Why should I be nicer to you?”
“We truced?”
“That’s not a word, Finn.”
“Well, we shook on it.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“Okay. Scoot over.”
“What?”
“Well, who else am I going to hang out with?”
“I don’t know, someone who isn’t sleeping in their grandparent’s bed, I guess. Your sister? Eli and Daniel?”
“They’re idiots,” he says. “Where’s Andrew?”
“He should be here soon. Brandon took him on a beer run.”
“Andrew’s not old enough to drink,” Finn says.
“That never stopped you.”
“Think they’ll share?”
“Probably. Now get out.”
“All right. Want me to save one for you? Vicodin and alcohol go well together, huh?”
“Shut up and go. Please go spend some time with Gabby, the poor thing has no one here her age.”
“Lexi’s good with her. She’s fine.”
“All right. Well, go spend time with someone other than me.” He waves on his way out, shutting the door behind him.
“Tessa?” Dad’s voice disrupts a dream. I was at Yale, drinking with Finn and some kids I didn’t know.
“Mmmm?” I blink my eyes open, surprised to still see bright sunlight out the window. It feels like I’ve been asleep for hours.
“How’s it feel?”
“Okay, I guess.”
“Do you need another painkiller?”
“Nah. I just want to not feel tired and dizzy.”
“Okay. Well let me know when the pain gets too bad. Everyone’s here, we were just about to eat.”
“Clara?” I ask.
“Yes, she’s here. Everyone,” he reiterates. “Do you feel like eating?”
“Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute.” Stretching and yawning, I sit up slowly, expecting to still feel light-headed, but I actually feel pretty normal.
“Need help?” Finn asks, barging into the room.
“God, no,” I tell him.
“Livvy!” Clara squeals, pushing past him. “What’d you do?”
“I cut myself with a knife. I wanted to end it all,” I tease her. I realize a second later it was inappropriate. I’m glad no one else was in here to hear it, but Finn gives me a reproachful look. “Bad joke,” I tell them both.
“You coming?” Clara asks.
“On my way.” Finn waits by the door, making sure I’m stable on my feet. “I’m fine,” I mutter to him as I pass. I can already smell beer on his breath, and wonder which parent, if any, is keeping track. Most of us don’t have cars here anyway, so I guess they figure we can’t get into too much trouble.
That being said, I know Dad’s monitoring everyone closely... because that’s what Dad always does.
Grandpa and Uncle Matty have set up five picnic tables outside, and even though it’s a little cool outside still, everyone opts to bask in the sunlight while we eat dinner. Some of the younger kids have to eat on blankets. The family’s just too big these days.
Lexi stays close to Kaydra, both of their bellies swollen to about the same size, even though Kaydra’s due a month before her step-daughter. Already Lexi seems so much older than me and Clara.
“Hey, Kayd?” Finn asks his aunt. She turns around and raises her eyebrows. “What’s the story on the horses? Can I ride?”
“I don’t know,” she says, “can you?” He balls up a napkin and throws it at her. “Finny, don’t litter here. This part of the country is too beautiful.” Finn rolls his eyes.
“Pick it up,” Steven says, undoubtedly making the demand to keep his ever-helpful wife from bending over and retrieving the trash in her condition.
“Finn, you can take out the white horse or the spotted one,” Dad says. “They’re both gentle. You know, not that you couldn’t handle one of the more aggressive ones,” he adds, trying not to offend him. “I’d just feel more comfortable, with... nevermind.”
“I get it,” Finn says. “Come on,” he says, eyeing my plate of half-eaten food.
“Come on where?”
“You finished? You wanted to go riding, didn’t you?”
“Um, you forget that I can’t exactly hold the reins... I can’t go.”
“I’m going to take you. Your dad said I could. That’s why he only wants the gentlest of horsies for his precious daughter,” he says mockingly.
“Ohhh... do I trust you?”
“You should.” I remember that his mother is an accomplished equestrian, and that Finn has spent many summers working at their stables for extra money.
“Okay, I guess. Clara?”
“No, way. They stink.”
“Jackie? Maddie? You coming?” I ask, clearing my plate.
“No, I’m sore from earlier.”
“Me, too,” Maddie says. “I’ll go with you tomorrow.”
“Okay. Guess it’s just me and you,” I say to Finn.
“Take your phone, Liv,” Dad says. “Just in case.” I nod on my way into the house. I slide my jacket on and grab my cell phone, tucking it in the pocket of my coat.
Finn and I walk out to the stables where my grandfather is preparing Tally Ho, a horse Andrew named years ago when we were last here. It’s large, white, and very gentle. It’s the one my mom normally rides when she goes. It’s not her choice. My mom’s fully capable of handling a horse with more charisma, but Dad’s overly-protective of her.
“How do we do this?” I ask Grandpa.
“Finny, you sit in front.” My friend sticks his foot in the stirrup and throws his leg over the horse. “Scoot up,” he directs Finn, handing him one of the reins. “Livvy, honey, you’ll sit behind him, and hold on tight.”
My grandfather holds my forearms as I get on and try to steady myself.
“Be careful with my granddaughter,” he tells Finn. To Grandpa, he’s more stranger than family.
“Yes, sir.” Finn spurs the horse forward slowly, and once we’re out of earshot, he grabs my left hand from his stomach. “It’s supposed to be on the horn,” he says, attempting to reposition my hand.
I pull it away quickly and he halts the horse abruptly. He laughs at me. “We can’t ride if you don’t hold on–”
“Well, I’m not putting my hand–” He grabs it forcefully and puts it on the metal knob at the front of the saddle. I swallow, trying to ignore the fact that my hand is so close to him. “-there,” I finish my thought, but do it anyway.
“Jesus, Liv, grow up. This is the safest way to ride.”
“Fine,” I concede, nudging Tally Ho with my foot. The horse jerks to the right.
“Whoa, whoa girl,” he says softly to the animal, stroking its mane. He cranes his n
eck around to look at me. “Liv, let me drive, okay? There’s a reason they don’t put two steering wheels in cars, you know?”
“Fine,” I repeat, still smelling the alcohol on his breath. “How much did you have to drink today? Are you okay to ‘drive?’” I tease him. Finn turns around and makes a clicking noise, prompting Tally Ho to start walking again. She speeds up into an easy gait.
I love Manhattan, I do. But there is nothing like the sight of untainted land spread out as far as my eyes can see. Mountains stand tall across a small brook. My father would sometimes take me across the water to the other side when I was younger until the horse I was riding got spooked by something in the water once. It threw me, and although I wasn’t hurt, it jarred my father and he set a hard and fast rule that none of the kids could go to the other side through the brook anymore. If we wanted to ride closer to the mountains, we’d have to go miles out of our way to find dry land to cross.
Finn knows the rule as well as I do, but when he reaches the bank, he barely hesitates before urging Tally Ho into the shallow, calm water. I’m not afraid, and even though Dad would object, I don’t feel like we’re taking any risks. He’s an experienced rider, and we’re not really kids anymore.
He puts his hand over mine, as if making sure I’m holding on as tight as I can. My right arm is still wrapped firmly around his waist, and I can’t help but think of how intimate this feels. As a little girl, it seemed so innocent and pure. I’d ridden this way with Dad, Grandpa, various uncles, and cousins many times. This time feels different. I scoot back in the saddle as much as I can, feeling suddenly guilty. I wish Finn was Jon. I close my eyes briefly, imagining that he is.
My heart jumps as the horse’s hooves find purchase in the hard land again, and she runs faster toward the foothills of the mountain. My hand slips a little, and judging by the way Finn’s body stiffens, I know my thumb has brushed up against him in a way I didn’t intend. I also know this by what I felt, and I wonder if he’s been considering how inappropriate this ride feels, too.
“Sorry,” I mumble, both of us returning my hand to the saddle horn.
“It’s okay,” he says with a laugh. I have to pull closer to him as the horse gains speed again. Finn leans forward, causing me to lean with him. I press my cheek against his back, looking at the sun beginning its descent over the horizon. There are no other people anywhere around. Again, I think of Jon, but still appreciate the solitary feeling that sweeps over me. It would be better if he was here... but this is still pretty amazing.
There’s an open patch of grass by the creek with trees lining the perimeter. I’d never been here before, but Finn brings Tally Ho to a stop, leading her to the water. She dips her head for a drink.
“Need a break?” he asks.
“Yeah.” He hands me the rein, pats the horse softly, and brings his left leg over her, climbing off. He helps to settle my foot in the stirrup and holds my good arm as I get off. “I wish I had my camera,” I tell him as I sit down on the grass.
“You’ve got your phone,” he suggests, sitting behind me after tying the horse to a tree. I smile, pulling it out of my jacket and aiming the lens at the horizon. It’s hard to steady it with my left hand. “Here, let me take it. You get in the picture.” I hand him the phone and turn around, giving him instructions on how to take a picture with the sun as a backdrop.
He studies it on the small screen, smiling proudly. “I’m good,” he says smugly, handing me the phone.
He managed to capture me with the sun behind my head. I’d instructed him to turn the flash on, so my smile is bright as the natural light forms a halo around my windblown hair. “Not bad,” I agree. I immediately send it to Jon, with a note telling him I wished he was with me.
“Send me a copy,” Finn says. “That’s really cool.”
“’Kay.” I do as he asks, then put my phone away. Finn reaches into his coat pockets, producing two bottles of beer. “What’s that?”
“Refreshments?” I pick up a bottle and look at the cap.
“How do you suggest we drink these?”
“Hell, Liv, I was a boy scout when I was little, remember?” He searches another pocket for a bottle opener.
“You quit when you were eight,” I remind him. “They teach you boys to drink at a young age, huh?” I joke with him, watching him open the bottles. I take a tentative sip, cringing at the flavor. I still don’t like beer. “Wait, were you prepared enough to–”
“-bring these?” he finishes my sentence, pulling out a tin of mints. I nod and take another drink from the brown bottle.
“Why do people like this?” I ask.
“Not everyone got the Vicodin high today,” he reminds me. “It’s relaxing. Not quite like pot, but legal.”
“You don’t smoke pot.”
He looks at me out of the corner of his eyes. “Okay. And neither does Brandon,” he says. “And Clara.” I stare at him blankly.
“Today?” He nods. “My dad will kill you all.”
“Which is why you won’t tell him,” he says. “Did you want to try?” he asks, reaching into the pocket he had the bottle opener in. I push him hard with my good hand, and he rolls back in the grass. “I don’t have any,” he laughs at my reaction.
“How does he not already know?” I ask. My dad always seems so clued in on everything.
“We’ve been keeping our distance. There are too many people here for anyone to notice us.”
I shake my head and look away from him, back toward the sunset. I lie back on my arms as I listen to the quiet sounds of the water in front of us and the wind in trees behind us. Finn scoots up and mimics my posture, but closes his eyes briefly. He takes an occasional drink as we sit in silence, enjoying a landscape that’s pretty foreign to both of us. When he finishes his beer, I hand him the rest of mine, which he takes with no question.
The bitter taste still in my mouth, I lean over Finn to grab the mints. He takes my bandaged hand in his and leans up, putting his other hand on the back of my head, moving quickly to touch his lips to mine. The moment doesn’t last even a second as I push him away again, this time stunned.
“What are you doing?!” I ask him.
“I thought you–” he starts, but doesn’t finish, running his hands through his hair. He clears his throat, then finally shifts his eyes to mine. “I thought that’s what you were trying to do.”
I start laughing and shaking my head. “No, way, Finn! You’re, like, my brother!”
“Actually, I’m nothing like your brother,” he corrects me. “Your brother is six, and short.”
“You know what I mean!” I still stare, watching his cheeks return to their normal tan color.
“You made the move,” he says.
“I did not!” I say, surprised. “And gross, kissing you with your breath smelling like that, anyway.”
“This is what real men smell like,” he says as he opens the tin and puts a mint in his mouth. He finally offers me one. “He never drinks?”
“Who? Jon?”
“Yeah.”
“Special occasions, maybe. I doubt a lazy day in Wyoming would count.” Finn’s quiet for a few minutes, eventually biting down on the mint and chewing it noisily, as if trying to get my attention. Finally, I glare out of the corner of my eye. “What?”
“You don’t ever think about anyone else?” he asks.
“No.”
“Ever?”
“No.”
“What about before you started going out with him? Did you ever think about...”
“Who? You?” He shrugs his shoulders, looking bashful. “What’s gotten into you, Finn? Are you just craving affection?”
“No,” he says, blowing me off. “I can get that anytime.”
“Not now,” I correct him sassily.
“Is that a challenge?” he asks playfully.
“Absolutely not.” I move about two feet away from him. “This is so dysfunctional,” I laugh again.
“Stop laughing.�
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“I’m sorry. It’s just... it’s something that never crossed my mind. Camille’s been my best friend since elementary school. And she’s been chasing you since the fourth grade. You have been ‘hers’ for as long as I can really remember.”
“I always liked you better.”
“Finn,” I say, wanting him to stop. My body language makes it clear that I’m growing more uncomfortable.
“What? Sorry, but I hated that we had that, like, family relationship. It sucked... but dating her let me be around you even more. I thought about you–”
“This is sick.” I stand up and brush off my jeans. “You ready?”
“I’m pouring my heart out–”
“Like you have one... and I don’t really want to hear it, Finn. I’m sorry. Camille’s my best friend.”
“It was just sex,” he repeats what he told me earlier.
“Not to her. You dated for a year before you had sex!”
“No, we sat on my bed for two and a half hours before we had sex. We just waited a year to tell you. She didn’t want you to think she was a slut. She thought you’d stop being her friend.”
“Shut up,” I tell him. “No way.”
“It’s true.”
“It’s awful. Not that you did that, but that you say it meant nothing to you. It meant everything to her.”
“I’m not going to lie to you,” he says callously, finally standing up. “I respect you too much.”
“Don’t say that,” I tell him, disgusted. “Can you take me back to the house now?”
“My place or yours?” he says. I smack his arm hard. “Kiss first?” he asks, untying Tally Ho.
“In your dreams.”
“Mmmhmmm,” he says dramatically, walking the horse toward me slowly. I poise myself to hoist my body over the animal, but Finn puts his arms around me from behind. “I’m just messing with you, Livvy.” He releases me and helps me onto the horse.
“About what?”
“All of it?” he asks. “None of it?” he shrugs, mounting the horse in front of me, careful with his leg. “You’re like my sister,” he says smugly. I put my good hand on his thigh, waiting for him to get settled so I can grab the saddle again. Once he’s ready, he shifts my hand with his onto the horn.
